


I'm Not Calling You a Liar

by trajektoria



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Reyes is up to something, Ridiculous amounts of fluff, Safeword Use, Scott is not a big fan of lying, Surprise Party, partners in crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trajektoria/pseuds/trajektoria
Summary: When Reyes Vidal sends Scott Ryder a distress call, the Pathfinder drops everything to come to his aid. However, it's hard to believe that the Charlatan doesn't have some hidden agenda.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [kadarakings](https://kadarakings.tumblr.com/) and [captainjennhart](http://captainjennhart.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing the fic!
> 
> My Ryder is the default Scott, who is a kickass Adept and wears N7 armor inherited from his dad (N7 armor gives biotic bonuses, so it makes sense. And it looks cool). He doesn't wear a helmet, though (or maybe he just ticked the option not to have it shown in the cutscenes, hard to tell).

No matter how many times Scott Ryder stepped out of the Tempest’s gangway into Kadara’s bustling port, he couldn’t help feeling a certain giddiness. If he tried, he could probably convince himself that it was all because of the differences in gravity or air density compared to the Nexus or any of the planets he had currently visited. A space jet lag of sorts. Maybe SAM could have even provided a proper scientific term if prompted.

But that would be self-deception and Scott Ryder had been raised better than that.

The truth was that he missed Reyes and the thought of seeing him again made his heart beat way faster than was considered decent. He did his best to keep in touch through emails and vids, and visit his lover every chance he got, sometimes under the most outlandish pretexts (“Yes, I need some popcorn for the movie night and Kadara is the only place where I can get some, there will be a mutiny if I don’t get it”) but being a Pathfinder was a full-time job. Personal life was almost non-existent when the fate of so many people rested on your shoulders. And with the ever-growing threat of the kett… It was getting harder and harder to simply take a break without feeling the crushing weight of guilt and responsibility. Sometimes Scott could swear that the whole of Andromeda would collapse and all the colonists would perish immediately without his constant attention.

Obviously, the Charlatan too had a lot of things to attend to, a whole city if not a whole planet to run, so it wasn’t as if he could jump into a spaceship and fly across the galaxy at every whim. A romance between two busy men separated by the cold vastness of space wasn’t an easy... well, affair to maintain, so Scott had learned to treasure these rare visits, these moments of blissful respite.

This time, though, his thoughts weren’t enveloped in a pleasant, rosy mist of affection and thrill of anticipation. No, this time his senses were sharp and his head full of worry as he traversed in full armor through Kadara's slums. One hand near the holster of his pistol and the other close to his chest, the power of biotics tingling at his fingertips and ready to be released if anyone so much as looked at him sideways. It was always smart to remain vigilant in this godforsaken place because even after the Charlatan consolidated power and brought order to the city, some parts of it didn’t change all that much. The slums still remained largely a place of misery and desperation, even if the Collective was currently more in the business of helping people than killing them.

There was yet another reason why Scott kept on his toes. Apparently, Reyes was in trouble. And probably big trouble at that.

Entering one of the sordid alleyways that smelled of sulfur and filth, Scott thought back to the email he'd gotten this morning, uncharacteristically brief and and to the point. “Need your help ASAP. Lives at stake. Come alone. Reyes” followed by the coordinates of the rendezvous point. Odd to have it in the slums. Usually they either met directly at the docks when the longing hit them especially hard or at Kralla's Song where they made out in the corner over drinks accompanied by the bartender’s exasperated groans. And of course in the Charlatan’s quarters in the shady Tartarus when making out just wasn't enough and decency required some degree of privacy. Meeting here, all on his lonesome at that, felt strange. Doubt was starting to take root in Scott's mind. What if the Charlatan wasn’t the original sender of that message? Could someone have hacked his omni-tool somehow and impersonated him to draw Ryder out? The Pathfinder had numerous enemies –  you cannot bring order to the galaxy without treading on a few toes. What better place to eliminate him than here, in this backside of the universe, where he was alone and vulnerable? Was that paranoia speaking?

“ _It is not paranoia if your concerns are well founded in reality,_ ” spoke the mechanical voice in his head, always helpful.

 “Thanks SAM, glad you’re looking out for my mental well-being,” he murmured.

“ _My pleasure, Pathfinder._ ”

Scott glued himself to the wall of one of the buildings and carefully peered around the corner to scout the terrain. It seemed that he was entering another part of the slum as the architecture changed slightly in this area. Instead of tiny, decrepit shacks inhabited by poor unfortunate souls of every species and gender, he found himself among decrepit shacks of bigger sizes. Dangerous looking people roamed in the distance with the characteristic gait of bored guards on duty, who were just looking for an excuse to pull the trigger and raise some hell. Why the hell would Reyes want to meet him here of all places? The ambush theory was getting more plausible by the second. Inside his armor, Scott began to sweat. And although the famed N7 suit, a legacy from his father, was designed to deal with all kinds of corporeal reactions, Scott felt discomfort that reached deeper than just physical response to stress.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.” The words sounded right in his ear. Even before they faded out, Scott's body reacted on instinct. He turned around sharply, pistol instantly in his grip and his left hand pulsing purple with biotic energy that could tear metal girders in two. A true arsenal of powerful force to channel in combat when the stakes ran as high as your life.

Scott expected one of the raggedy thugs, maybe an ex-Outcast with a grudge or a rogue turian, hell, maybe even a kett, as absurd as that would be. What he did not expect was to be faced with the Charlatan in the flesh, his empty hands raised in a placating gesture, and a smug, shit-eating grin on his face. If he weren’t so handsome, that nonchalance would have been beyond insufferable.

“Reyes?” Scott let the biotic energy fade and pointed the barrel of the pistol at the ground.

“It is I,” he replied in that silky accent of his, involuntarily sending a pleasant shiver down Scott’s spine. “Sorry, couldn’t resist sneaking up on you. I quite enjoy your… rear view.” 

Scott gave him a dark look.

“I could have put a hole in your chest. Or blasted you into orbit. Or both.”

“Ah, but I have a perfect faith in your impulse control.”

That smile was infectious. Scott felt some of the tension leaving his body. It wasn’t an ambush or a trap, it was just Reyes with a whole package of his faults. Relief and something else filled Scott’s chest. A smirk lit up his eyes and tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Wrong.”

Scott launched himself at the man, pressing him hard against the wall. Hearing the soft, surprised “uff” escaping Reyes’s mouth as his back collided with the metal, Scott caught his lips, joining them in a kiss, all teeth and bites, but perfect, oh so perfect nonetheless. He felt Reyes’s rough hand reaching to his cheek, brushing against the stubble and then sliding down greedily to his neck, warm fingers touching his pulse point as if he wanted to make sure that Scott was truly alive and not just some ethereal echo from the past back to haunt him. Scott supposed there were quite a few of such ghosts. But it didn’t matter, nothing mattered except the kiss, which had lost its frenzy and turned to something more tender, something more than just lust and longing. The gentle slide of tongues, languid in their affection, soothing.

The Charlatan was the first to pull away. His golden eyes, usually so mischievous, were warm and loving. The proof that there was a good man under layers upon layers of lies and deception. The sight only a privileged few could behold.

“As much as I’d like to go on, I don’t think that the middle of a slum is the most opportune place for that.”

These words felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Scott’s head. He cleared his throat and shifted a little, regaining some semblance of dignity as befitted a Pathfinder. If he had been wearing his casual clothes he would have tugged at the sleeves – a nervous habit he hadn't been able to shake off since childhood and one that Sara teased him about mercilessly to this day. But since he was clad in armor, he had to content himself with wiping some imaginary smudge from his glove.

“I’m sure that _this time_ SAM would actually warn me if someone was approaching.” That sounded way more passive-aggressive than Scott intended, but SAM took it in stride.

“ _Pathfinder. I detected no hostile intentions in Reyes Vidal, so I failed to see the reason to alert you to his presence. As far as I am aware, the two of you are engaged in a romantic relationship and his feelings towards you have been sincere so far, so I assumed he means you no harm. Should I mark him as a potential threat anyway?_ ”

SAM, of course, had to say that through the open channel. Scott sighed.

“No, SAM. He’s not a threat. Not to me anyway.”

“ _Understood, Pathfinder_.”

The smug smile on Reyes’s face made Scott marvel briefly at how attractive his partner truly was and how lucky he was to have met him. Still, he made a conscious effort to push these thoughts to the back of his head. He wasn’t here for fun, but on a mission.

“What’s wrong? Why did you need my help?”

It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside Reyes’s mind. One moment he was the smooth charmer Scott adored so much, and the next he was elusive overlord of a criminal organization, who basically ruled the whole city from behind the curtains. The same man who had Sloane Kelly murdered in cold blood.

 “Something is brewing. I’m not entirely sure what yet. Maybe someone is trying to consolidate power, fill the void after the Outcasts. At any rate, a few crates of my cargo went missing. Medicines mostly that were supposed to be distributed across clinics in the slums. I’m having suspicions that they are being peddled to the local junkies. That’s obviously all shades of bad and also a stain on my honor. I cannot allow people to think that the Charlatan is losing control. The trading routes and dropping points are a secret, so it’s probably an inside job. Moles can’t be tolerated. I managed to trace the latest lost crate to one of the warehouses here. But I don’t know what’s inside. Could be bad. And that’s why I contacted you.”

Scott, who had been listening intently in silence up to that point, tilted his head slightly.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Reyes, but you have people precisely for this sort of thing. Why do you need me?”

“Because I don’t know who I can trust!” he replied ardently. “You’re the only one who won’t stab me in the back first chance you get. That’s why I asked you to come alone.”

Butterflies fluttered in Scott’s stomach at such a display of confidence from someone who didn’t trust a soul, but at the same time his pride as a Pathfinder didn’t allow him to cherish that feeling for long.

“I trust my crew with my life. I could have brought Vetra and Jaal with me, their skills would be useful here. Especially since we don’t know what we are dealing with.”

Reyes shook his head.

“It’s an infiltration mission, not a 'shoot’em up' mission. The fewer people come in, the better chance we have not to get spotted. So Scott… are you in or no?”

It didn't sound like a rhetorical question, but it might as well have been.

“Of course I'm in,” Scott replied without a nanosecond of delay.  "I won't let you face some drug-stealing goons alone.”

The smile returned to the Charlatan's face. A touch wider even.

“I knew you wouldn't let me down. Shall we go then?”

Scott nodded, holstering his weapon.

“Lead the way.”

Without hesitation, Reyes dived into the nearby alley, keeping to the shadows of this strange place somewhere between the depths of poverty and the glamour of neon lights. He skulked through the streets like a specter and Scott had no other choice but to follow. To the Pathfinder, all the backstreets looked the same and he was fairly sure that he would get completely lost here if he were to wander on his own. But the Charlatan didn't stop to get his bearings even for a moment, he simply knew this city like the back of his hand. He breathed it in and out and his heart pulsed in the same rhythm as Kadara's. If Scott hadn't known better, he might have thought that Reyes was born here and not six hundred years ago in another galaxy. He had truly grown into this place, become one with it. Without him, Kadara wouldn't be what it was now. And Scott knew too that he wouldn't be the person he was now if fate hadn't put Reyes in his path. The path of love wasn't easy to find even for a Pathfinder.

Scott smiled. That thought was so cheesy that Reyes would surely love it. He needed to use it on him one day.

After about half an hour of roaming the city, Reyes stopped so suddenly that Scott nearly collided with him.

“What's wrong?”

“We're almost there. Let's find a vantage point and assess the situation.”

Most buildings in the slums were tall constructions made mostly from metal containers, which incidentally made them very easy to climb with all the railings, holes and broken pieces. Reyes started the ascent with remarkable agility and strength.  

“Last one on top buys drinks later.” He looked over his shoulder with a cheeky grin and picked up the pace.

Scott wasn't one to shy away from a challenge. And he wasn't beyond taking all the advantages he could get. 

“You're going to regret that.”

The Pathfinder bent his legs and with the help of his biotic powers shot up into the air like an arrow. Grabbing the ledge and pulling himself up was  child's play, not worth breaking a sweat. He crouched on the roof, observing smugly how Reyes struggled upwards.

“You're a dirty cheat, Scott Ryder,” said Reyes, only a few feet from his destination.

“That's precious, coming from you.”

“What can I say, I'm a precious man.”

Scott groaned and extended his hand to pull his lover up. Both on top now, they focused back on the mission and moved carefully to the other ledge. Lying flat on the roof to minimize the chances of being seen, they had a perfect view of the terrain on the opposite side of the street.

Definitely a warehouse of some sort, surrounded by a fence and with two turian guards making their rounds. Aside from them, there were no other signs of activity.

“There is no one here at this hour,” said Reyes, confirming their observations.  “I watched the place for a couple of days, it comes to life at night. Now is the best time to get inside.”

Scott nodded in acknowledgement.

“SAM, can you scan the building for people? Better safe than sorry.”

“ _I cannot, Pathfinder. There seems to be a device inside that is jamming the signal._ ”

“A jamming device? In some shoddy warehouse in Kadara?” Scott raised an eyebrow and looked at Reyes. “This doesn't look good.”

“It doesn't indeed.” Reyes bit on his lip. Scott found that strangely endearing. “This may be bigger than just some stolen drugs.”

“All the more reason to check it out.”

“Exactly.”

Scott hesitated.

“Maybe I should bring some of my crew with us after all?”

Reyes shook his head.

“No, that would take too long, we need to move now. It's just reconnaissance, we don't need extra firepower.”

“Well, I hope you know what you're doing.”

“I always do.”

Scott snorted with laughter and rolled his eyes.  Some things never changed. And he didn't want them to.

“Okay then. Let's get this party started.”


	2. Chapter 2

The plan was simple – wait until the guards were on the other side of the building, jump over a fence, and then slip inside through the slightly ajar window on the first floor. Scott wanted to personally thank the absent-minded thug who left it open for making their lives significantly easier. Couldn't blame them, though; even with the vault working again, the temperatures here could get quite nasty. Sure, it wasn't Elaaden's level of bad, but enough to make you want to kill for ice tea.

“Ready?” asked Scott, watching as the guards leisurely turned the corner.

“I was born ready.”

“Six hundred years of sleep didn't dampen your eagerness, huh?”

Reyes chuckled. “I have a lover who is practically a fetus, I need to keep up.”

 “I'm twenty-two.” Scott pouted. And then a thought hit him. “Well, technically I'm over six hundred. Six hundred and fifty-six years to be exact. Damn.”

“Asari fetus then.”

“Ugh. Don't speak to me ever again.”

With Reyes's laughter ringing in his ear, Scott jumped down from the roof, the Charlatan coming right after him. They sneaked quickly to the fence in complete silence. Without any prompting, Scott gave Reyes a boost and then flew over to the other side. They worked perfectly as a unit, true partners in crime, each having his own strengths and weaknesses but together being almost invincible. Scott, if he could, would be glad to take his lover on the Tempest and make him a permanent member of his team. A man of such talents as Reyes would be an invaluable asset to the team, as well as to the Pathfinder, for those moments when everything just got too overwhelming and he needed someone to talk to, someone who understood what it meant to hold people's lives in your hands.  And yet Scott knew that Reyes's place was here, in Kadara's Port, even if it hurt to admit that. They were cursed to these rare visits and long periods of longing with literal star systems separating them.  But every time Scott came back here to Kadara, he felt as if he was coming home. The Charlatan was his home, the hearth warming up his heart. So now, danger or not, he was happier than he had been in a long time, hopping over fences and breaking and entering with his boyfriend in a shady slum.

“I'm going in first,” whispered Reyes once they reached the open window. “If I start screaming like a little girl I expect you to be my cavalry.”

“I left my shiny armor on Earth, but I hope the N7 will do,” he replied with a smile, giving Reyes a boost again. The man grabbed the ledge and swiftly slid inside as if he was used to doing it every day.

Scott waited with bated breath, seconds seemingly longer than millennia. There was no sound coming from the warehouse. That was a good sign, wasn't it? If someone had spotted Reyes there would be shouts, shots, possibly the blaring of an alarm. Silence was good. Ryder counted to five in his head, and then jumped up, following his lover.

The interior of the building was dark, so dark that Scott could barely see a foot in front of him. It was almost as if someone had done this blackout on purpose. Scott's pulse quickened, as he considered throwing caution to the wind and turning his flashlight on. There was something wrong, he could _feel_ something moving in the room. Multiple targets, he knew that even without SAM's scans. And where was Reyes? Scott's mouth became dry, his heart clenching painfully with worry. 

And then...

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SCOTT!”

Scott took a step back on instinct, bringing his arm to his face to shield his eyes from the onslaught of bright lights. He blinked a few times, dumbfounded, and when his irises adjusted to the illumination, he stared blankly at the scene before him.

The whole Tempest crew was here: Jaal, Liam, Vetra, Drack, Cora, Peebee and even Lexi, Suvi, Gil and Kallo, all radiant smiles and excitement. The spacious room, looking like some sort of a private bar, now proudly displayed an array of bright neon lights alongside normal, halogen ones, uwhich would most likely be dimmed when the party was underway. At the counter stood Umi in the flesh, as unimpressed as ever, guarding an impressive assortment of alcoholic beverages. And right at Scott's side waited Reyes, his smile the brightest one in the room.

“Um... What's going on?” Scott turned to his lover, completely at a loss. He almost wished there was a mirror nearby so that he could take a good look at himself because the expression on his face must have been one of a kind.

Reyes stayed silent, just smiling in that confident, smug way, but others were ready to offer some explanations.

 “We're partying to celebrate your birthday, you big dum dum!” shouted Peebee, laughing with glee.  “Wooo, free drinks!”

“That's right,” Liam backed her up, just as pumped. “Reyes contacted us in secret because he wanted to throw you a surprise birthday party. You know, to make you loosen up a little.”

Scott blinked again. His mind had a hard time catching up to what was happening around him. It felt like some sort of bizarre dream after inhaling too many suspicious angaran herbs. Or so he heard.

“Um...  Thanks guys, really, I mean, it, but... ehrm... It's not really my birthday today.”

His crew gawked at him as if he had suddenly turned into a quarian.

“What? ” scoffed Peebee. “That can't be right.”

“I'm fairly sure that my birthday is in six months,” replied Scott, feeling simply surreal.

“But Reyes said...”

All eyes turned to the Charlatan, who stood there stoically, only his eyes crinkling with joy. Scott knew him well enough to realize that his lover was doing his darned best not to start howling with laughter.

“Well, if you truly had a birthday today you might have suspected something. And it was supposed to be a surprise, no?” he said, innocence incarnate.

Scott blinked yet again in confusion. He had a feeling he'd be doing quite a lot of that today.

“So there was no stolen cargo?”

“Of course not. The Charlatan owns Kadara and no one steals from him. At least no one who wants to continue breathing.”

“And those guards outside? Your men?”

“Yes. They were instructed to try very hard not to see or hear anything.”

Scott lifted his hand and rubbed his forehead. This was just unbelievable. Absolutely out of this world. His shoulders shook as the peals of undignified giggles escaped his mouth. He couldn't stop laughing. This was just too much, too much absurdity to handle. His team could stare all they wanted and Lexi could start arranging therapy for him but he just couldn't stop. Hysterical laughter equally from mirth and from the need to release some tension. 

“You crooked bastard,” Scott managed to say at Reyes, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. “The craziest I've ever met.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Scott shook his head, a radiant grin still on his face, and turned to his stunned crew.

“Seriously, did no one check in my files when my birthday really is?” he asked, not at all mad, just amused. 

There was a lot of uncomfortable shifting and exchanged glances.

“Well, since you two are together, we assumed that he knew the date...” started Lexi.

“Of course I knew.”

“... and that he truly wanted to do what he said he would,” she ended, glaring daggers at Reyes.

“I did. The goal was to bring Scott here and prepare a party for him. Him actually having his birthday or not on this day is irrelevant,” he defended himself smoothly.

Scott listened to this exchange and was simply amazed at how things had changed. When he first started dating the Charlatan, all of his crew was suspicious and warned him against the shady exile. They didn't even believe that his name was really Reyes. And now, a few months later, they followed Reyes's instructions without any doubt or even a simple fact check, for better or for worse, agreeing to throw a party in some dump on Kadara just because he asked nicely.

“I should be mad at you,” said Scott, eyeing his lover. The 'but I am not' was unspoken, but obvious. “I dropped everything to come here. I had to leave the colonists at Prodromos, we were just in the middle of calibrating–”

“There's always something, Scott. ” Reyes interrupted.  “Another mission, another planet, another bunch of people to help. You're an adrenaline junkie with a hero complex and if you keep it up you will burn yourself to cinders.”

Scott's mouth hung open. He didn't know what to say. Some line of defense was in order, a clever comeback, but he couldn't find the right words. Reyes had hit the nail on the head, bullseye and bingo. The Pathfinder didn't like it.

“You could have simply told me to come to the party, ” he grumbled. “I would come if you summoned me for whatever reason, you know I would.”

“Yes. Probably. If it didn't so happen that you first had to save a few more metaphorical kittens from a high tree. And then maybe discover a few more planets, mine for platinum or run some errands for Tann.” Reyes said that with a smile, not wanting to be confrontational despite driving home some truths. “I know that what you do is important. But you're only a human, Scott. You can't carry the whole galaxy on your shoulders. A black hole won't swallow us all if you take a break from time to time and just relax. ”

Scott said nothing, feeling rather uncomfortable. Exposed, like a specimen wriggling under a microscope. But then Reyes took his hand with a smile that was soothing and open.

“You can leave if you want. You can just turn on your heel and walk out the door. Or window, if you want to have a dramatic exit. It'll be fine, we'll understand. But we all will be really happy if you decide to stay a while. Just a couple of drinks. And presents, we thought about that too, even if it's not really your birthday. What do you say?”

Scott hesitated, but there could be only one answer. Saying 'no' to Reyes sometimes seemed like an impossible feat.

“Fine,” he said, squeezing the Charlatan's hand and letting the man lead him towards one of the couches which were arranged in circles near the wall.

At first, as everyone sat down, no one said a word. The atmosphere was palpably awkward, even after the lights went out, leaving only the neons. That didn't last long though, not with the drinks Umi served tirelessly and the stories Reyes shared, which made everyone gasp in disbelief or lose their breath from laughter. Yes, Shena indeed, that nickname was spot on. No one else was as good with their mouth as Reyes. In every sense of the word.  

The Pathfinder was so lost in thoughts about that particular ability of his lover, that he initially didn't notice Vetra standing right in front of him.

“So maybe it's not your birthday after all, but it would be a shame if our gifts went to waste,” she said, handing him a small package wrapped with more eagerness than skill in blue paper and a red ribbon. “We all pitched in and I used my contacts to get it. Everyone got you something personal too, but this one is the highlight of the night.”

“Thanks, you didn't have to.” Scott shook the box. It made no sound.

“Oh, just open it!” urged Peebee. She was giggly and twitchy, which only increased Scott's suspicions.

“If this is a Rylkor's dried poop you're all walking back to Nexus on foot.”

“Something tells me you would prefer Rylkor shit, kid,” deadpanned Drack.  

Scott gave him a confused look and, full of misgivings, unwrapped the package. What he fished out of it was a piece of golden cloth the size of a handkerchief with lots of colorful beads sewn into it.

He stared blankly at his friends, the only one not in on the joke.

“It's... lovely,” he said nonetheless. “Thanks.”

“He has no idea what it is!” guffawed Peebee.  “I knew it!”

“What is it?” Scott furrowed his eyebrows, giving the outlandish garment another look-over.

“It's angarian underwear,” explained Jaal, helpful as always. “See, not just any, of course, but a special kind offered to young couples about to begin their mating union for the first time. It brings good luck and is supposed to enhance the pleasure of an orgasm. I hope I wasn't too late with that gift? How long does it take for humans to start getting intimate with one another after striking up a relationship? ”  he asked curiously, just seconds away from whipping out a notebook and jotting down notes.

Scott wanted nothing more than to crawl under the couch and go into cryostasis for another six hundred years. A treacherous crimson blush crept up from his neck all the way to his cheeks.

“Uhm... ugh...”

“ _Pathfinder, I have detected a sudden increase in your body temperature and profuse sweating of your palms, are you alright_?”

Reyes patted Scott's thigh in a comforting manner, high enough to make Scott blush even harder. Surely, he was seconds away from a cardiac arrest.

“He's fine, SAM. He just needs a drink,” said Reyes, locking his eyes with Umi.

“Whatever.” The asari brought a bottle of whisky and left it in front of Ryder. Three seconds later Scott had downed half of its contents, glad that his throat was now burning him more than his cheeks. He desperately needed some alcoholic anesthesia, a lot of it, if he was to survive this party.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the delay but finally the fic is finished. I'd love to hear your opinions.

Just as Vetra said, everyone had prepared a present of their own, but thankfully no gifts were as wild as the mating thongs. Considering who the gift-giver weres, one might even say that the offerings were rather tame. By the end, Scott was richer in a varied assortment of goods that Reyes promised graciously to have his men deliver to the Tempest later: a booklet of asari proverbs (Cora – no surprise there), a bottle of suspicious moonshine (Drack), a pink soccer ball (Liam – how he even found that was beyond Scott), a heartfelt poem authored by Jaal extolling Scott’s virtues (not quite as embarrassing as the underwear but close), an ugly Blasto tank top Vetra procured from somewhere (which Scott unironically liked), a brochure on all the horrible diseases human biotics can fall victim to (“Uplifting, thanks Lexi”), a deck of cards with racy pictures of male models (Gil, of course), a miniature, fully-functional model of Poc (Peebee) and a holo map of Kadara ready to be put on a shelf from Suvi and Kallo (somehow they always ended up doing everything as a unit).

Even Umi got him something. Wonders never ceased.

“Hey, loser, catch!” she shouted from the counter and threw something right in his face with the help of her biotics. Only his own powers and combat reflexes saved him from a broken nose. Scott looked in genuine confusion at the small, yellowish, and smelly disc he held in his hand.

“Is this… cheese?”

“Consider it my opinion on you two trying to flirt in my bar.”

Scott and Reyes exchanged glances and started to laugh.  Just to make the asari groan, they kissed, exaggerating as much as possible.

“I don’t want to sound needy, but you haven’t given me anything for my fake birthday yet,” Scott said cheekily against his lover’s lips. Reyes’s golden eyes crinkled in the semi-darkness, reflecting the green neon lights. Scott knew that look – the Charlatan was up to something. As always.

“Patience,” he replied with a smile, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have prepared something special for you. Only for you.”

“What?” Scott needed to know. But Reyes only smiled. Bastard.

Hours flew by without Scott even realizing it. Everyone loosened up significantly after a few drinks and even the Pathfinder started to actually enjoy himself. A pleasant buzz in his head, he felt the tension easing off its grip on him. Until now, he hadn’t even realized how terribly stress was gnawing on him. He relaxed, his humor improving.

Having had enough embarrassment for one night, Scott was adamant about not wanting to dance in public, but he took pleasure in observing that others didn’t share similar reservations. Liam and Gil danced with more eagerness than skill to some earthly electronic music right next to Suvi and Kallo. Peebee, who never cared much about propriety, presented some truly astounding asari moves on the table, unachievable for someone who wasn't sloshed six ways from Sunday. Cora, more drunk that she would ever dare to admit, grabbed five bottles of beer and juggled them with gusto, much to Jaal's astonishment. The poor angara tried to replicate the trick and ended up almost in tears as all the bottles came crashing down all around him. That was how things ended when you couldn't cheat by using biotics. Drack sat at the counter and just kept drinking, completely ignoring everyone and everything, including the silly party hat stuck to his armor, undoubtedly by Peebee. 

Scott couldn't help but smile. It was... nice. He felt good, more than good. Being here with all these people he cared about was… well, something. Eloquence wasn’t his strong suit when his head kept falling more and more onto his lover's shoulder as he got gradually more pliant, his insides warmed by the alcohol. His eyelids  weighed two tons each.

“Want your beauty sleep, Scott?” asked Reyes, his tone amused but fond, as he ran his fingers through the Pathfinder’s hair. Scott could feel in his bones that flirting approached. “Because you really don't need any.”

And there it was. Scott smiled. The Charlatan was nothing if not smooth. From the moment they met, Reyes kept charming the pants off of him. Successfully. But Scott had picked up a thing or two himself.

“No, I'm just letting my eyes rest. Your good looks are blinding.”

Umi was too far away to hear this exchange, so it was Lexi's turn to play the part of an exasperated asari and utter an emphatic “Ugh”.

Reyes chuckled, snaking an arm around his lover.

“How about we move to a quieter place? This bar has cozy private rooms.”

Scott lifted his head and locked his eyes with Reyes's. There was a promise painted all over his face that was impossible to ignore. Warmth pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah. I'd like that.”

With a smile that said more than a thousand words, Reyes stood up from the couch, offering Scott his hand. The Pathfinder took it gladly. They slipped away from the party, walking to the other side of the room and then into a small corridor with a few closed doors. The Charlatan opened one and let them inside.

When the door closed and sealed behind them with a hiss, Scott let out a sigh of relief. The others seemed not to have noticed that they were gone and frankly Scott was thankful for that. As much as he liked the company of his friends, he'd come here for Reyes. A little privacy felt nice for a change. The thumping music was barely audible here, so they could pretend that they were truly alone.

Scott looked around with only passing interest. The room was small, smaller than Reyes's quarters at the Tartarus, but still bearing the Charlatan's unique touch that Scott had learned to recognize. There weren't many things here, just bare necessities – a table with a chair by the window and a surprisingly large bed that looked quite comfortable with new, or at least washed sheets – but the dim lighting and a slow, romantic melody that Reyes had just put on with his omni-tool gave the place a cozy, homey atmosphere, something he had grown to associate with his lover. Shadows and romance, how fitting.

“I know you don't like to dance in public, but maybe you will do me the honor away from prying eyes?” said Reyes, actually bowing like a proper gentleman. A wave of sentiment washed over Scott as he remembered a very similar scene all those months ago, the first night they had properly spent together after taking care of the problem of Sloane. Not wanting to be overwhelmed by this mushy feeling, he laughed.

“I'm not dancing in my armor again, a man has to have some standards.”

“So take it off then. I fail to see the problem.” Reyes's golden eyes seemed to glow in the semi-darkness, confident, in control. It took all Scott's willpower not to close the distance between them and seek shelter in the man's arms, putting him completely in charge. That would be rushing it, though, and they both loved a little teasing.

“Not sure if I should. I have only my underwear on underneath it...”

“I still fail to see the problem.” Reyes's gaze moved across Scott's body in an almost predatory way, making the Pathfinder shiver. “Although I thought you were supposed to wear some kind of protective suit under your armor, no?”

“Yeah, but I've never been particularly good with following rules.”

“Of that I am aware.” Reyes's smile was the most beautiful thing Scott had ever seen. And it always managed to win him over, no matter what.

“Well then, can you help me? It’s hard to take this armor off on my own…” Scott asked coyly, biting on his lower lip. Reyes understood, he always did. The Charlatan reached for the buckles of the reinforced glove, not taking his eyes off Scott’s face. His skilled fingers unclasped it without problem and set it on the table with care. More and more pieces of armor followed but their intimate connections didn't break. It was a calming experience, cathartic almost. Scott felt like a chrysalis slowly emerging from its cocoon to become something else. He wasn't the Pathfinder anymore, but Scott Ryder, just Scott Ryder, a young man hopelessly in love against all odds. And his whole body seemed to vibrate with that love, reacting to Reyes’s slow touches and caresses.  

Standing almost naked in front of Reyes, he felt the man's arms wrap around his waist and bring him closer. He leaned into his touch, putting his arms around the Charlatan's neck, and breathing him in. The last remnants of tension left his body. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the gentle sway of two bodies, in the warmth of Reyes's embrace, in the delicate touch on his bare skin as Reyes stroked his back. Yes, not wearing the protective suit to Kadara had paid off.

“You've become better at this.” The words were whispered in his ear, warm breath fanning over the shell. “You're not stomping on my feet anymore.”

 “Yeah, well, I had a half decent teacher.” Hearing the soft chuckle, Scott couldn’t resist any longer. He found Reyes's smiling lips and kissed him. Slowly, gently, more an assurance of the constancy of affection than a prelude to an outburst of passion. There would be time for that, but right now he was happy where he was, enjoying the familiar comfort of the man he loved. A sliver of domesticity in a foreign, hostile world.

“Mhm, I think it’s time for your present now,” Reyes said, brushing his lips against Scott’s brow.

Scott, completely lost in the moment, had forgotten all about it. And he didn’t care about gifts. He didn’t need anything from Reyes, not when he had him so close.

“Maybe later? I don’t want to let you go, not yet.”

Reyes chuckled.

“Believe me, Scott, I don’t want to let you go either.” These words and the smile that followed made him weak in his knees. Reyes had a way of looking at him as if he were Andromeda’s most prized treasure. In his arms, Scott truly felt like one.

Reyes reached to his omni-tool and pressed a few buttons. The music in the room stopped.

“I sent the gift to your omni-tool.” He paused, looking slightly… embarrassed? Sheepish? “Your friends told me that sometimes you have troubles sleeping. I hope this can help.”

Intrigued, Scott fired up his omni-tool, discovering a new audio file there. He opened it, not sure what to expect.

A gentle guitar melody thrummed through the air. Scott gave his lover a quizzical look. Reyes gestured for him to wait.

_Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go…_

Scott’s eyes widened in surprise. Reyes’s recorded voice sang for him a sweet, calming ballad.

_You have made my life complete and I love you so…_

Scott listened in absolute silence, his chest swelling with emotions as the song carried out the tune of love and devotion. He was touched, moved to his very core. Tears welled up in his eyes and by the time the song ended he had to blink them away to not start crying.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice a little hoarse.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Words weren’t needed. A kiss, a delicate stroke of his cheek sufficed. Scott smiled and played the song again from the beginning, content to be held by the man he loved.

“You know, I think you had a good idea,” Scott whispered when the song ended, as if fearing to disrupt their intimacy with a louder sound. “With bringing me here, I mean. I really needed a break like this, I was just too stubborn to see it.”

“All my ideas are good, Scott. Haven't you noticed already?” Reyes chuckled, earning himself a fond eye roll. But when Scott spoke again, his voice was serious.

“I just wish that you hadn't lied to me.”

There was a shift in the atmosphere of the room, Scott could feel it. The sudden stiffness of Reyes's   muscles, his face going blank, his golden eyes filling with insecurity.

“Scott, I...”

The Pathfinder didn't let him finish. He put his finger on Reyes's lips and then promptly replaced it with his mouth, quieting all the excuses and apologies that would follow. He didn't want to hear them, not now. With his arms still locked around the man's neck, Scott started to take steps back, leading them towards the bed. When the back of his knees touched the edge of the mattress, he let himself fall, pulling Reyes on top.

Scott wanted to get lost in the heat of the moment, forget about everything but the taste of his lover's lips and his eager hands, but there was still something on his mind, a nagging thought that throbbed like a rotten tooth.

He pulled away from the kiss and looked up at Reyes, only inches away from his face.

“I need something from you,” he said, his lips a little swollen from all the kissing.

“Anything.” Reyes meant it, his gaze was sincere and expecting. If Scott asked for a star from the sky, he would get him the whole constellation.

“We need a safeword.”

Seeing Reyes blink in surprise, completely thrown off balance, was an oddly satisfying sight.

“A safeword? Why, Scott, do you plan on getting kinky? Making use of that angaran underwear you got?”

“Ha, you wish.” The Pathfinder shook his head, amused despite himself. Reyes often had that effect on him. “No, it's for something else.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Reyes waited patiently, giving him time, as he undoubtedly had figured out this was something important. For that, Scott was truly grateful. “I know, who you are, Reyes. If the phrase 'liar liar pants on fire' were true, your nickname wouldn't be the Charlatan, but the Human Torch.” Scott allowed himself a small smile at this joke, but Reyes remained serious, listening intently and probably wondering where it was going. “I understand that your life needs to be full of cloak and dagger and that you need to lie to survive and get things done. And it's fine. I accepted you a long time ago and I'm not demanding you to change because I know it's not possible. But, having said that, please don't keep me guessing and doubting you all the time. Don't do this me. I dropped everything to come to your aid only to find it was all a ruse. I had fun, I admit, the song was sweet and you were ultimately right to make me come here, but you know what I'm saying, don't you? If I fail, if I neglect my duties people may die. People _have_ died because of the choices I made. That’s the burden of responsibility I have to carry. So that’s why I need a safeword. A word that would mean you’re telling me the absolute truth. No shades of gray, no omissions, no hidden agenda, just pure truth. And then I'll know what choice to make, no hesitation.”

Reyes didn't reply immediately, considering the request. Scott waited, feeling a little uneasy. Surely even the Charlatan had to admit that the demand was reasonable?

“Alright,” Reyes replied finally and Scott released a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. “How about 'love' for a safeword then? I always mean it when I say it to you.”

Scott melted under that warm gaze, his heart starting to thrum faster in his chest. Always the charmer, always the smooth criminal and yet still someone with more depth and affection to give than people might expect. One more reason to love him.

“And I'm always happy to hear it. But we need something else, something unique that wouldn't come up in a conversation otherwise.”

Another moment of pondering and Reyes's face lit up as he got an idea.

“Mount Milgrom. Remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Scott's eyes glazed over, his lips tilting upwards, as his thoughts travelled back to their first date. How they stole a bottle of Mount Milgrom whisky from Sloane's stash and drank it together on a rooftop, admiring the view over Kadara Port and having a conversation that quickly turned deep. And then had a first real kiss, not counting the one they had used earlier as a distraction. All in all, one of the best days of Scott's life.

Reyes must have read the agreement on his face because he smiled as well.

“Let's test it then.” Reyes gave him a brief kiss and whispered against his lips, “I love you, Milgrom.”

Scott snorted with laughter.

“I thought that 'love' doesn't need any safewords.”

“It does not. Love is enough.”

The rest of the night seemed like a blur to Scott. He remembered kisses, touches, the feel of Reyes's skin on his, when they finally freed themselves from all the garments. Reyes claimed his body, marked him, filled him up. Scott loved every second of the languid rhythm, the sweet dance of love, turning more erratic the closer to the brink of fulfillment they got.

Emotions and desires quenched, Scott remained in his lover's tender embrace, letting the man stroke his hair and leave butterfly kisses on his sweaty skin, so different from the possessive, hungry ones he'd bestowed on him before.

“I can't move a muscle,” Scott sighed, boneless and happy. Even though it didn't sound like a complaint, Reyes’s face immediately clouded with worry.

“I hope I wasn't too rough with you.”

“No, no. You were perfect,” he assured him with a kiss. “I just need to rest now, that's all.”

“I recommend a prolonged stay in bed then,” Reyes decided. “At least till morning.”

“So you're now not only a king of Kadara, but a doctor too?” Scott teased. “Branching out much?”

“What can I say, I am a man of many talents.”

“That you are.” Scott chuckled, warm and fondly. “Okay then, I think I can stay till breakfast. But only if it's breakfast in bed.”

“That can be arranged. Being the Charlatan has its perks.”

Scott grinned, feeling equally sleepy and mischievous.

“Well, if you impress me you might get another treat.”

“Oh? What kind of treat?”

“A physical one.”

“Promise?”

“Milgrom.”

Reyes’s soft chuckle was the last thing Scott heard before falling asleep.  

 

* * *

Scott wasn't sure how Reyes had done it – and wasn't sure if he wanted to know – but in the morning he was woken up to the smell of tangerine tea, freshly baked croissants, and wafers with strawberry jam. Always a man of his word, he showed his appreciation physically and eagerly as soon as the last crumb disappeared into his belly.


End file.
